replaceable until youโre not // ushijima wakatoshi
itโs always there. on the coffee table. the white short folder, with its contents, neatly stacked inside. the papers get thrown out sometime during the end of the year, then they get replaced around march โ fresh pages with wedding plans sketched, wedding plans with coffee rings on the corner, wedding plans that feature every detail needed.
wedding plans that donโt really happen.
you were always there, too. on the corner of his bed, backs turned to each other while you both prepared for work. on the soft prickly grass of his backyard, lying down under the sun with him. in the kitchen, washing dishes or taste-testing whatever he was cooking. on your usual seat at the dining table with your feet up and your knees bumping against the table, waiting for him so you can start with dinner. sitting in front of him on the kotatsu, your legs snug against his own as he peeled oranges for you. on the bleachers, cheering for him with your pompoms and your loudest voice. at the airport, whenever he comes and goes. on the front passenger seat, looking out of the window as he drove in silence. by his side, as he pushes the grocery cart while you giggle at him and mischievously add that bag of chips you both agreed to stop eating. in front of him, with his large calloused hands cupping your cheeks then tilting you up so he can finally kiss you. holding his hand, pulling him to some amusement park the both of you have never been to. holding a towel, during practice matches, wiping sweat off his brow, and whispering,ย โi love you.โ just before he returns to the court.
beside him, as he grimly pours another glass of wine in the living room, and the expensive bottle softly clinks against the coffee table as you take it from him and say something like,ย โthatโs enough. youโre already nearly drunk, toshi.โ
and ushijima wakatoshi would always โ every year, every march, every cherry blossom weekย โ he would always try to stand up to take a pen and blank sheets of paper from the drawer of stationery near the bookshelf, then he would return next to you, on the couch, in front of the coffee table,ย โi always think of her.โ
โi know.โ you can only reply. although she was alive and well and definitely happy (as shown in her social media photos, the ones you stare at for a while, gritting your teeth at the shoes she left for you to fill), she has always been some kind of ghost that lurks wherever he went. you felt her presence, always. at least the presence of her who was ushijimaโs girlfriend, the one who he loved before you, the one whoโs got the tall, national athlete scrambling for a way to fill the her-shaped hole that she left. the one he keeps trying to replace.
the one you wish would stop being replaceable.
you wanted to tell him that you wished heโd move one and stop trying to look for her in every nook and cranny in the world. you wanted to tell him so many things like how you wished you could leave him, too, like her. or that you werenโt her. or that you hated the way he ruined cherry blossoms for you.
โplease help me stop all these thoughts about her?โ
but you know youโd always return to him. you werenโt her, after all.
ushijima picks up the pen and paper,ย โwe should plan out our wedding.โ
another pile of wedding plans, only to be discarded along with the year.
